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oscnoopy

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 - 𝐥𝐧𝟏 + 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

lando norris x reader x oscar piastri₊⊹ smau

oscar has his hands full, being in a relationship with you and lando.

note: i'm so landoscar pilled lately warnings : swearing, implied/referenced sex fc: beabadoobee

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ynpriv just posted

liked by ln4priv and others

ynpriv: $200 for the little gay one

view all comments:

oscaaaah: Baby why are you trying to sell us ⤷ynpriv: need tha money ⤷ln4priv: We are millionaires? ln4priv: Second pic is wildly accurate ⤷ynpriv: idk how he deals with us ⤷oscaaaah: Its really hard work albono23: would you do $100 for the little gay one ⤷ln4priv: Alex you cant buy me ⤷ynpriv: stop trying to lowball me albono. i know his worth!

ynpriv just posted

liked by ln4priv, oscaaaah, and others

ynpriv: my favorite pov

view all comments:

ln4priv: Wait who is who? ⤷ynpriv: well oscar has brown eyes and i just refilled my lexapro prescription so come to your own conclusions ⤷oscaaah: As if that should even be a question lol albono23: did they finally let you adopt a cat ⤷ynpriv: i make my own decisions! ⤷ln4priv: Yes we did lilympriv: i’m omw over to pet that baby oscaaaah: That’s my favorite pov too. ⤷ynpriv: you dog

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piastriprincess

drop dead ⸻ oscar piastri x reader .

featuring oscar piastri , popstar!reader , secret relationship . author’s note hiiiiii so i just realized that monday was the one year anniversary of this blog !! what da hale... time flies . thank you soooooooo much for reading my stuff, i feel so grateful and literally have so much fun writing for yall !! this is just something silly to tide you over while i work on other pieces ... as a longtime stan twt lurker i had fun including some of my fav references . also who else can’t wait for OR3 . i wasn’t on tumblr for guts so i need yall to know now that i do NAWT play about my daughter olivia !! also ALSO dropped some deep oscar lore in this very briefly for the OG piastriprincesses . anyway i hope you like this and as always let me know what you think or just come chat to me !! title is obviously from drop dead by olivia rodrigo .

ynln • 6m ago 🎵 Just Like Heaven - The Cure

ynln i hope you never finish that beer liked by oscarpiastri, audreyhobert and 2,584,370 others

conangray you’re glowing mama ♥ liked by author ⤷ ynln LOVE YOUUUU flyereduppppp this is sooooo lovergirl of her… whats going on allamericanyn actually unfair that she’s hot AND cool AND a grammy winner like okay save something for the rest of us lac.yn glad you’re enjoying your vacation queen but my boyfriend just broke up with me so let’s get back in the studio !! ⤷ taydaughter um did you see the third pic bae i don’t think she’s got anything for you tokyotonistrucking ummm third slide WHO DAT IN THE BAAAAACK lizzymcalpine gorgeous gorgeous girl ♥ liked by author oscsnoopy oscar in the likes AGAIN i said oh i'm sure ⤷ piastriluvr he’s such a ynnie lmaoooo ⤷ buzzing.pop who is oscar ⤷ oscsnoopy oscar piastri? formula one driver? famously obsessed with yn, he’s mentioned her as his celebrity crush in like every interview ever ⤷ piastriluvr dont put our boy on the jumbotron like this LMAOOO we cant let his loserness about yn breach containment!! ⤷ buzzing.pop wait why he kinda — ynfan42069 this soft launch NOOOOO i need more sad songs :(

prissytomboyrecords playing tennis… babe that was another soft launch it’s okay we can be honest ⤷ jesuswasacarpenter it’s so obviously PR for an album rollout, like those cryptic ass captions are definitely lyrics she's so transparent h0pium oscar posting a thirst trap story using her song immediately after she was spotted in monaco… he is suchhhh a loser i love him yn.world Of course I want new music but this break is obviously good for her, she’s looked so healthy and happy recently! ♥ liked by author popculturechat she’s been in monaco so much omg do we think her man lives there ⤷ ilyarozanovofficial that’s like basically confirmed at this point right ⤷ princessyn YOUR MIND oh my god. and her playing tennis today too!! could it be carlitosalcarazz maybe????? ⤷ gamesetmatch tagging him is insane but EEEEEK they’d be sooo cute together… my new agenda !! ⤷ richbich hate to burst the bubble but i think she was playing padel actually ⤷ princessyn wait you’re so right. maybe an f1 driver then? i think lando’s single? ⤷ f1.gossip LANDOYN WOULD BE SOOOOO BUZZY ⤷ forzafemme or hear me out… she’s working on a track for the new album with charles?? amishwillbyers can we please give her privacy jesus christ like maybe she’s in monaco bc no one’s supposed to be able to take pictures of her there impradaurnada she’s gorgeous oh my days piastr81 a certain superfan f1 driver just fell to his knees seeing this post ⤷ everythingyn i know he was running around monaco fanboying out trying to find her ⤷ oscarpiastriwdc hold awn… walk with me here... what if the soft launch is oscar... ⤷ spillurguts bffr as if he could act normal around her long enough to carry on a conversation much less start a relationship ⤷ oscarpiastriwdc ykw im living in my oscyn truth... ur all gonna see #DELUSIONISTHESOLUTION ynnieshq 🤫🤫🤫 ♥ liked by author ⤷ yndaily oh my god admin WHAT DO YOU KNOW?????

obsessedwithurex all her captions recently are making soooo much more sense now lol poopcrave need the analysts to do a deep dive on this IMMEDIATELY ⤷ americanteenager no like i need a behind the lyrics video raynowwwww ⤷ poopcrave baby no shade but im talkin bout the man… numberoneynnie might get cancelled for saying this but this song sounds like it’s been copied from somewhere? the beats, the melody, it all sounds so familiar. i just can’t pinpoint exactly where i’ve heard it? oh wait… i’ve figured it out… it sounds like THE SONG OF THE SUMMER ♥ liked by author ynified.xx most alive i’ve ever been but kiss me and i might drop dead? oh she’s down BADDDDDD ⤷ marybethbarone No for real WHO is this man because I’ve never heard her sound so in love 🥹 ⤷ rachelberryofficial clearly if she wanted us to know she’d just say it!!! let’s give her space!!! ⤷ marybethbarone Okay but, alternatively, consider: I am nosey. maisiepeters YN3 IS COMING YESSSSS ♥ liked by author vivaciousskin.com Slide 2 has to be a screencap from the music video right? ⤷ ynnieshq 👀👀👀 ⤷ ynluvr51 ADMIN STOP BEING CRYPTIC WE’RE NOT SWIFTIES… left4rat sour to guts to LOVE now that’s what i call a holy trinity ♥ liked by author emptychairdoasolo second slide jfc she’s so fineeeee… whoever her man is i hope he can fight ⤷ opiastrix2 Dw I can ⤷ brutallyn bro thinks he’s on the team 🫵🤣🫵🤣 who invited my man blud ynluvbot stream drop dead for a free drink at starbucks!! 🌷🫧🩷 ⤷ starbuckscoffee This is not a valid Starbucks offer, and this comment is fake. To confirm any Starbucks promotion, you can check your Starbucks app, reach out to our customer care line, or ask your Starbucks barista. ⤷ ynluvbot did i ask? mind your own business

gossipgirl white boy with a cute smile WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN dan_nigro Wowwww I wonder what the album title could possibly be ♥ liked by author ⤷ ynln it’s a mystery! thankunext327 third slide ohhhh okay i’m gonna go lie in traffic now ⤷ iluvyn Wait til LOVE drops please we can’t lose sales thesearemyconfessions curly hair theory 🥹 she’s so in loveeeeee ynssour im already missing the purple eras but the pink is so cute on her too costarastrology Fun fact: Aries and Gemini are two of the most compatible star signs! You really will go nice together ♥ liked by author shnnetwork Okay does anyone else think this pic is so inappropriate. Like she does not need to be showing them kissing. You guys are disgusting and weird for defending a literal weirdo ⤷ dropdead.diva i’m 17 and AFRAID of yn ln lasculturistas ynnies let’s mobilize we need to figure out who this man is, we have half his face and his star sign!!! oscarpiastri Congratulations ♥ liked by author ⤷ boxboxbaby LMAOOOOOOOOOO posted this with tears in his eyes ⤷ landowecanbewdc no bc the way he commented the exact same thing w the exact same energy on lando’s post when he lost the wdc like this is really that level of serious for him ⤷ scuderiayn did you like the song though oscarpiastri ⤷ 81sweetheart TAGGING HIM UNPROVOKED ??? audreyhobert Tewwww cute ♥ liked by author ⤷ ynln love yewwwwww xx oscarpiastriwdc i know y’all are gonna clown me again but… 3rd pic… i’d recognize that meepful smile anywhere… ⤷ sharleclerc baby he can’t even get a reply back ⤷ oscarpiastriwdc but he got a like this time! alexa play baby steps by olivia dean

ynln LMAOOOO you’re insane ynln saw the vision didn’t you. i love you baby xx ♥ liked by author ⤷ oscarpiastri Love you more :) oscmega OH MY GOD???? OSCAR PIASTRI I WAS UNFAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME MY GOAT oscarpiastriwdc oscyn truthers WE WONNNNNNNN ⤷ spillurguts issuing my formal apology to you now queen xopiastri third pic oh ik you two are freaked out. oskuromi mclaren hate train, down bad allegations, ynnies and oscarinas all calling him rizzless… he had one chance and he locked the fuck INNNNNN popculturechat when ynnieshq said more surprises coming soon ain’t no way this is what they meant 😭 ⤷ ynnieshq i can’t control either of them tbh i’m just along for the ride ⤷ vivacioushairandlashes admin: who drivin this bus… ynpilled wait he’s kinda cute AND he has a job yayyyy i love him already piastriszn no bc his manifestation rituals must go so crazy like how does he keep pulling his favs!!! first lando then jannik then this!!!! ♥ liked by author ⤷ lando now why am i in it :0 good4u Uhhhh the leopard jumpsuit??? Are you saying they’ve been together since MILAN??? That show was like 8 months ago logansargeant Thank god the lying was getting exhausting ♥ liked by author piastriarchive the way we’ve been clowning oscar for years but yn was in the likes in seconds and was the first comment… like she’s just as down bad for him ⤷ ynln yeah :) ⤷ piastriarchive girl you weren’t even tagged 😭😭😭 GET UP!!! ⤷ ynln pretty happy right where i am actually ♥ liked by author

ver-lane

no stars in monaco | ln4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader (no y/n, established rel.)

warnings: minors dni, p in v, lando being annoying and giving you the ick in 3k words

wc: 3k

summary: it’s off season, and you decide lando needs to get out of mônaco and into nature... i present to you baby’s first camping trip

ale's note: thank you @kaizachas for this idea!!!

a bit more dialogue heavy than usual but just trying smth a bit dif, i hope u likeee

ver-lane

black tie | op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (no y/n, bestfriends)

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), p in v

wc: 5.5k

summary: You pulled him closer and he came willingly, his weight pressing you back onto the bed. His hand slid up from your hip to your ribs, tentative, testing. You arched into him.

His hand moved higher, cupping your tits, and you both paused. This was new territory. Best friends didn't touch each other like this. But you weren't just best friends anymore, were you?

ale's note: happy belated oscar, i wrote smut!! 👅👅

cinnamorussell

closest to heaven (i'll ever be) ⸻ alex albon x reader.

“it would be unconscionably rude to abandon one's family at the dinner table simply because one's sisters have decided to narrate their entire correspondence in excruciating detail—” “excruciating!” you exclaim, and you let your eyebrows rise, let a hint of teasing creep into your voice. “how flattering, my lord. i had no idea my letters were such a trial to endure.” “that is not what i—” he starts, and then he sees your expression and stops, “you are enjoying this.” “oh, immensely.” you confirm, and you do not bother to hide your smile. or, the bridgerton au.

word count. 23k featuring. bridgerton au, the albon family (+ pets), so much yearning, [serena van der woodsen voice] i have to go, surprise logan sargeant cameo, period-accurate views on marriage and courtship, sliiiight nsfw, the sluttiest thing a man can do is have an ethical dilemma over his lust for you. author's note. i alway say my fics are a behemoth, but this is an entirely different thing. yes, the small gap between employments is the sole reason why i have written over 20,000 words in a fury. i have a long background in writing historical fiction, and it's always my favorite genres to write, so i often wonder why it took me this long to write a historical au. nevertheless, this is a labor of love and also all the tropes of historical rom-coms i have always loved— yearning, horniness, it's got it all !! this is dedicated to kae, eve, a, lily, (@tsunodaradio @spiderbeam @hello-car-fandom + @piastriprincess) and everyone on this account who has ever stuck with me through literally my months of inactivity. will this be a one-off fic? maybe. i have a few more historical aus in mind but that will have to wait. i also forgot until halfway through that there is a youngest brother. please pretend he is just at eton. happy belated birthday, alex albon !! made this 23k words specifically for you. title is from iris by the goo goo dolls. the band. what is a bridgerton au without an accompanying playlist⸻ entirely curated by me because i have had an obsession with string covers of modern music for forever.

the carriage rattles over cobblestones slick with morning rain, and you press your gloved fingers to the window, watching london unfurl before you.

you had been gone eleven years. eleven years of rolling hills and silence, of your grandfather's library and the slow turn of seasons measured only by which flowers bloomed in the gardens, by which birds returned to nest in the trees outside your bedroom window.

and now you are here.

academic-vampire

𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔶

a-simp-20

Formula 1 🏁

Drivers that i will be writing for are : MV3, GR63, KA12, AA23, LN1, CL16, OP81, CS55, OB87 (for now!)

📎 Max Verstappen. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 George Russell. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Kimi Antonelli. . .

Begin Again

Summary : Three devastating years you have spent your life being free from the stress of your previous toxic relationship. You're forever thankful that your brother George Russell had nagged you to leave the guy that you were dating after he found out how absolutely verbally toxic he was to you. Now as a newly fresh bachelor student you had swore and promised to focus on yourself first before falling back into the hole of love..that is until you meet your brother's teammate <3.

📎 Alex Albon. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Lando Norriss. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Charles Leclerc. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Oscar Piastri. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Carlos Sainz. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

📎 Ollie Bearman. . .

→ (coming soon 🏁 !)

A/N : I'll be updating on which driver I will be able to write for depends on how much information I know about them and how comfortable I am on writing about them, enjoy some of my available fics first! xx.

ivywritesfanfiction

One Thing

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female reader Word count: 7.8k Summary: After being broken up with, you want nothing more than to get back at your ex. Oscar seems to be the right solution to that, maybe even more... Tags: College AU!, Hockey AU!, 18+ content, smut, fingering, handjob, intercourse, size kink, soft dom! oscar...

The party is the kind of loud that presses in on you from all sides. Music thumps through the walls, people shouting conversations into each other’s ears, red cups raised and refilled and forgotten. Someone bumps into you and barely apologizes. The air smells like alcohol and sweat and too many people trying not to think.

You wish you hadn’t come. Across the room, you see him again. Your ex.

He’s leaning against the counter like he owns the place, one arm around a girl you’ve never seen before, her laugh too bright, too eager. His hand is already resting at her lower back, fingers splayed like muscle memory.

It’s been a week. Seven days since he told you he “wasn’t in the right place,” since he walked out with an apology that felt rehearsed. Seven days since Oscar sat with you on your bedroom floor while you cried, quiet and solid and furious on your behalf in that restrained way of his. And now this.

Your ex looks over. His eyes linger, slow and deliberate, before he turns back to the girl like he wants you to see it. Like he wants to make sure it lands. Your chest tightens.

“God,” you mutter. “Of course.”

Beside you, Oscar shifts immediately. He hasn’t been watching the room. He’s been watching you.

“What?” he asks softly. “What happened?”

You shake your head, taking a sip of your drink that tastes like regret. “Nothing. He’s just… being him.”

Oscar follows your gaze, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. When he looks back at you, his voice is calm, but there’s something careful under it.

“We can leave,” he says. “Seriously. I don’t care.”

“I don’t want to,” you reply, more sharply than you mean to. Then you sigh. “I don’t want him to think he still gets to ruin my night.”

Oscar nods. “Okay.”

Another beat passes. Your ex laughs again, louder this time, the girl’s hand sliding up his chest. He glances over at you like he’s checking whether you’re watching. You feel it then, the spike of something bitter and reckless.

“I wish,” you say suddenly, words spilling out before you can stop them, “I could just go kiss some hot guy and make him jealous.”

Oscar blinks. “Okay.”

You laugh, hollow. “I know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he says gently.

You keep going, venting now, the frustration pouring out. “I know it wouldn’t fix anything. I just, I hate that he gets to move on like I meant nothing.”

You finally look at Oscar. He’s listening the way he always does. Fully. Like every word matters.

“Well,” he says carefully, a tiny hint of humor threading through his voice, “I might not be the hottest guy here.”

You snort. “Oscar.”

“But,” he continues, shrugging slightly, “I think I do okay.”

You stare at him.

“And,” he adds, meeting your eyes now, “I offer myself. If you want.”

Your heart stumbles.

“You’re serious,” you say.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“You’d just… help me make him jealous?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” you press. “No expectations?”

“No expectations,” he repeats softly.

What you don’t know, what you couldn’t possibly know, is that Oscar has wanted you for so long it’s stopped feeling sharp and started feeling constant. A low ache. A background hum.

He’s memorized the way you laugh when you’re tired. The way you get quiet when you’re hurting. He knows how you take your coffee, how you sit too close when you trust someone.

And he’s learned how to want you quietly. How to take the smallest moments, sitting beside you, brushing hands, being the person you lean on, and make them enough.

Crumbs, if that’s all you’re offering. He’ll take them.

“Tell me to stop,” he says quietly.

You don’t. You step closer.

You’re aware of him in a way that feels suddenly new: how tall he is, how solid, how calm. How his attention doesn’t wander even for a second. It’s all on you. Has always been on you, you realize dimly, and the thought makes something ache low in your chest.

When you kiss him, it isn’t rushed. It’s tentative at first. Careful.

And then, unexpectedly, Oscar’s hands come up to your face. Both of them. Warm palms, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he’s grounding you, like he wants you to feel how real this is. The touch alone makes your breath hitch. No one’s ever kissed you like this, like you’re something precious, something worth holding steady. Your mind goes blank.

There’s no thought of your ex. No thought of the room. No strategy anymore. Just Oscar.

His mouth is warm and unhurried, moving against yours like he’s been wanting this for far longer than he’ll ever admit. There’s restraint in it, he isn’t taking, he’s waiting, and somehow that makes it worse. Better.

Oh, you think distantly. That’s… not fair.

Your fingers curl into his hoodie without you meaning to, like your body knows where it wants to be even if your head hasn’t caught up yet. You lean into him, and the second you do, one of his hands slides down, slow, deliberate, to your waist.

The contact sends a jolt straight through you, a familiar heat settling low in your belly. You melt. There’s no other word for it.

Your knees feel weak, your chest warm and tight, and you’re suddenly aware that you’re kissing him back just as deeply, just as desperately, like you forgot this was supposed to be a performance.

You don’t check the room. You don’t check if your ex is watching. You don’t care.

All you can think is why does this feel so right and why has no one ever kissed me like this before and oh god, I want—

Oscar exhales softly against your mouth, a quiet sound that feels like relief and longing all tangled together. For him, this isn't a new desire, it’s familiar. Something he’s been carrying quietly, carefully, for a long time.

If this is all you give him, he’ll take it.

Your lips part instinctively, and you feel him tense, not pulling away, not rushing forward either. Just… holding the moment.

Then, gently, deliberately, he stops. Not abruptly. Not coldly.

He rests his forehead against yours, breath warm, hands still steady at your waist like he needs the contact even as he pauses.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

You blink, dazed, heart racing, still leaning into him like you forgot how to step back.

“Do you think… this is enough?” he asks quietly. “Or do you want me to keep pretending?”

The question lands hard. Because you had been about to kiss him again.

“Oh,” you say, cheeks burning, suddenly very aware of yourself. “Uh— yeah. Yeah, this is—this is enough.” You laugh weakly, trying to gather yourself. “Totally worked. Very effective. Mission accomplished.”

Oscar nods immediately, stepping back just a fraction, giving you space even though you can see the effort it takes.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Just wanted to make sure.”

You take a breath. Then another. Your heart is still pounding, your skin buzzing where he touched you, your thoughts tangled in a way you don’t want to examine too closely.

“Thanks,” you add quickly, forcing casual into your voice. “For helping me out.”

“Anytime,” he replies, just as easily.

You stand beside him again, pretending the world hasn’t shifted. Inside, though, something has changed. And you don’t know what scares you more, that you didn’t do this for revenge anymore or that you didn’t want him to stop.

Lizzie doesn’t even pretend to study. She stares at you over the rim of her iced coffee for a solid ten seconds, eyes narrowed like she’s piecing together a conspiracy.

“…So,” she says slowly. “Since when are you and Oscar Piastri a thing?”

You choke on air. “We’re not.”

She snorts. “Babe.”

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm,” she hums, leaning back in her chair. “Because from where I’m sitting, you made out with him at a party like you were auditioning for a porn movie.”

You bury your face in your hands. “It was a situational kiss.”

“A situational kiss,” she repeats. “With hands. On your waist.”

You peek at her. “You noticed that?”

“I noticed everything,” she says smugly. “Including the way you looked like you forgot how to stand upright.”

You groan. “It was just to make my ex jealous.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “And did it work?”

“…I guess?”

“And did you enjoy it?”

You hesitate.

Lizzie’s grin spreads slowly. “Oh. Oh, you’re done.”

“I’m not,” you protest weakly. “It’s just— I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Of course you can’t,” she says. “Have you seen him?”

You groan again. “Lizzie—”

“Have you seen his back?” she presses. “Those shoulders? Those biceps? I just know he’s packing something bi-”

“LIZZIE,” you hiss, looking around frantically.

She laughs. “Relax. This is a library, not a church.”

You drop your voice. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re into him,” she shoots back. “Which means my work here is done.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “He kissed me like… like he actually wanted to.”

Lizzie softens just a bit. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “And now my brain won’t shut up about it.”

She smirks. “Is your brain saying wow he’s hot or wow I want him to ruin my life?”

“…Both.”

Lizzie claps her hands once. “Perfect.”

You stare at her. “That’s not helpful.”

“It’s very helpful,” she insists. “Because one of those is lust and the other is feelings.”

You groan. “I don’t want to overthink this.”

“Too late,” she says cheerfully. “You’re already imagining what’s under those jeans.”

“I am NOT—”

She leans in, whispering dramatically. “Come on. You’ve wondered.”

You cover your face. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she corrects. “And you’re going to text him.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“What would I even say?”

Lizzie thinks for half a second. “Hey, wanna hang out? Preferably somewhere private? Just kidding. Unless?”

You laugh despite yourself. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right,” she says. “Go have fun. Go flirt. Go see where it goes.”

You glance down at your phone, heart doing that stupid hopeful thing again. “…Okay,” you admit. “Maybe.”

Lizzie grins, victorious. “That’s my girl.” Then she adds casually, “And when you find out what he’s packing—”

“LIZZIE.”

She cackles, and you can’t help but laugh too, because for the first time in days, thinking about Oscar doesn’t hurt. It just makes you smile.

You stare at your phone for a full minute before hitting send.

You: hey, random but wanna come over and watch that movie we never finished? the haunted house one?

You toss the phone onto your bed like it might bite you.

“That was casual,” you mutter. “So casual. Painfully casual.”

Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Oscar: yeah :) sounds good

Your heart does a completely unnecessary backflip. Before you can overthink it further, another notification pops up.

Lizzie: BITCH. PUT ON YOUR BEST LINGERIE.

You groan out loud. “Absolutely not.”

Lizzie: I am serious. HAVE YOU SEEN THAT MAN

You type back furiously.

You: he is coming over to watch a MOVIE. we are FRIENDS.

Lizzie: friends don’t kiss like that.

You lock your phone and drop it face-down. “I’m not doing this,” you tell the empty room. “I’m being normal.”

Cut to: ten minutes later, standing in front of your mirror in very pretty lingerie.

“…This is stupid,” you say to your reflection, tugging on a hoodie and a pair of shorts over it. “He’s not going to magically jump me. He literally just helped me. This means nothing.”

Still, your pulse won’t slow down. You fix your hair. You redo it. You change your shirt. You sit on the bed. You stand again. You check your phone.

Then there’s a knock. You freeze.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “Okay. Okay.”

You open the door. Oscar Piastri is standing there in sweats and a t-shirt, gym bag slung over one shoulder. His hair is still damp, darker than usual, curling slightly at the ends like he’s only just towel-dried it. He smells clean, soap and something sharp and familiar.

He definitely just came from training. Hockey gear is half-visible in the bag, and you hate that your brain immediately supplies images you didn’t ask for.

“Hey,” he says, smiling softly. “Hope this is still okay.”

“Yeah,” you reply, voice a touch too high. “Totally. Come in.”

He steps inside, glancing around your dorm room with a fond familiarity. “You’ve got better lighting than mine.”

“That’s because my roommate owns three lamps and unresolved issues,” you say.

He laughs, and the sound settles something in your chest. You both hover awkwardly for a moment.

“So,” you say. “Movie?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Movie.”

You sit on the bed, deliberately leaving space. He sits beside you, close enough that your knees brush and neither of you moves away.

Your heart is doing too much. You press play, but you’re painfully aware of everything else: the warmth of him beside you, the way his arm rests just behind you, the faint drip of water from his hair onto his collar.

This is nothing, you tell yourself. This is just Oscar. Your best friend. Calm down.

Still, every nerve in your body feels like it’s waiting. And somewhere between the opening credits and the quiet space between you, you realize this might not be nothing at all.

The movie is still playing, but it’s just noise now, dialogue bleeding into music, light flickering across the walls without either of you really seeing it.

Oscar doesn’t look at the screen at all. He looks at you.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he says quietly.

You blink. “What thing?”

“That thing where you pretend you’re calm,” he replies, lips curving slightly. “When you’re very clearly not.”

You huff, folding your arms. “You don’t know that.”

He leans closer, just enough that you feel the heat of him. “I do.”

Your breath catches despite yourself.

He waits. Lets the silence stretch. Lets you squirm. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Why you really wanted me here.”

You look away, pulse pounding. “I already told you.”

“No,” he says gently. “You danced around it.”

You swallow. “Oscar—”

He smiles, slow and knowing. “Was it because you missed kissing me?”

Your face burns. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little,” he admits. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Mm,” he hums. “You don’t.”

You exhale, defeated. “Fine. I liked kissing you. A lot.”

His eyes darken just slightly. “And?” he presses.

“And I keep thinking about it,” you continue, quieter now. “About you.”

He nods once, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Because if I kiss you again, I want you thinking about me.”

Your heart stumbles.

“Not your ex,” he adds softly. “Not any other guy. Just me.”

You lick your lips, suddenly very aware of how close he is. “You’re being… very confident.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Only because you invited me over and then told me you liked kissing me.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It means something,” he interrupts gently. “At least to me.”

He shifts closer again, one hand lifting to rest against your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s testing the waters. “If you were mine,” he says quietly, voice low and steady, “I wouldn’t let anyone make you feel like you were replaceable.”

Your chest tightens.

“If you were mine,” he continues, eyes never leaving yours, “I’d make sure you never wondered whether you were wanted.”

You inhale shakily.

“That sounds unfair,” you whisper.

He smiles. “Yeah. It is.”

You tilt your head slightly, leaning into his touch without even realizing it. He notices. Of course he does.

“That okay?” he asks softly.

You nod.

His other hand comes up, mirroring the first, palms warm against your cheeks like he’s holding you in place, not trapping, just anchoring. When he kisses you this time, it’s slower, deeper, intentional.

Not rushed. Not pretend.

You melt into it immediately, fingers clutching his shirt, heart racing as his mouth moves against yours like he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how much to give without taking too much.

You forget the room. You forget the movie. You forget why this started.

You don’t even realize you’ve moved until your knees hit the mattress. You’re shifting closer, chasing the friction of his body against yours, needing more of that solid heat, more of the way he makes everything else go quiet.

Oscar reacts instantly.

His hands drop from your face, catching you by the waist with a grip that’s firm enough to startle you. He pulls you forward, and you stumble, a small noise escaping your throat as your balance shifts. Before you can steady yourself, he tugs you right onto his lap.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush.

Suddenly, he’s everywhere. He’s solid muscle and warm skin beneath his t-shirt, his thighs hard underneath yours. The sheer size of him sinks in immediately. He’s broader than you realized, stronger, taking up space like he was built to fill it. You feel small like this, boxed in by the cage of his arms, your knees resting on the outside of his hips.

“Oscar,” you breathe, heartbeat hammering against your ribs.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, sounding unconcerned. His hands span your waist, palms large enough that his thumbs brush the underside of your ribs. He doesn’t let you move away, doesn’t let you wiggle off. He just holds you there, effortlessly. “This okay?”

You nod, flushed, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. One of his hands slides down to your thigh, fingers curling into the skin there, squeezing.

The weight of him, the way his hips shift beneath you, it’s overwhelming in the best way. You can feel every inch of him, and you’re suddenly, violently aware that you are wearing a skirt and he is wearing gym shorts and there is very little fabric between you two.

He leans up and catches your mouth again, and this time, there’s no hesitation. No restraint.

It’s messy. He licks into your mouth like he’s starving, one hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, giving himself better access. You moan, a broken, embarrassing sound, and your fingers tighten in his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto.

He manhandles you like it’s nothing. He adjusts your position with an easy grip on your hips, pulling you flush against him so you’re seated firmly on his lap, your center pressed right against him. The friction makes you gasp, your head falling forward onto his shoulder.

“God,” you whisper, face burning. You’re so worked up you can barely think straight. Your body is humming, tense and waiting, and you have no idea how to handle the fact that Oscar Piastri, the quiet, steady, reliable Oscar, is the one making you feel like this.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against yours. His hand smooths up your spine, comforting and possessive all at once.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, sounding far too pleased about it.

“I’m not,” you lie, even though you are.

“You are.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, right under your ear, and your whole body shudders. “It’s cute.”

“Oscar,” you say, half-warning, half-plea. You don’t even know what you’re asking for. You just know you need something. More. Less. You need him to stop or you need him to never stop.

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, his gaze heavy and intent. He lifts one hand, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against your cheek.

“You look so good like this,” he says, voice dropping lower. “All flushed and desperate. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you this way.”

Your heart stumbles. “You—what?”

“Since the day I met you,” he admits, like it’s a secret he’s finally allowed to tell. His thumb traces your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. “But watching you fall apart on my lap? That’s better than I imagined.”

You stare at him, mouth slightly open, utterly wrecked. He’s so confident. So sure of himself. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You’re so cocky,” you whisper, awed.

“Only ‘cause now I know you want it,” he replies easily, his eyes dropping to your mouth again. “Now, come back here. I’m not done kissing you yet.”

He pulls you in before you can respond, and you let him. You melt against his chest, letting his hands roam, letting him manhandle you however he wants, because right now, there is nowhere else on earth you’d rather be.

Oscar’s hands settle firmly on your waist, grounding you, but instead of pulling you back into another kiss, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. The air between you is thick, heavy with the heat radiating off his body, but his gaze is steady, searching.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice a little rough but soft. "We need to be clear."

Your heart hammers against your ribs. "About what?"

"About where this goes." His thumbs stroke the skin of your hips, a soothing contrast to the intensity of his stare. "I know we started this to make a point, but we're past that now. I want to make sure you're okay with going further. With me."

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tight. He’s not just looking for a hookup; he’s checking in, making sure you’re actually there with him.

"I'm okay," you breathe, nodding. "I want this. I want you."

A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face. "Good."

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, and you watch, mesmerized, as he pulls it up and over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric hits the floor, forgotten instantly.

Your stomach drops. You gulp audibly.

Because good God. You knew he was an athlete, you’d seen him in jerseys and tank tops, but this is different. Without the barrier of cotton, he’s a solid wall of muscle. His shoulders are broad, tapering down to a chest that is somehow both lean and sculpted, defined abs flexing slightly as he settles back against the headboard. His skin is warm, golden under the lamp light, and there’s a smattering of moles on his neck and shoulder that you suddenly, desperately want to trace with your tongue.

You feel your face heating up, flustered and overwhelmed by the sheer reality of him. He’s gorgeous. He’s perfect.

Oscar notices your reaction immediately. His gaze darkens with amusement and something hungrier as he takes in your wide eyes and the way you’re practically gnawing on your bottom lip.

"Like what you see?" he teases gently.

"Shut up," you mutter, but there’s no heat in it, mostly because your hands are already moving, drawn to him like a magnet. You flatten your palms against his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart under your skin, the hard ridges of muscle.

He chuckles, the vibration rumbling through your fingertips. "It’s only fair if I get to see you too, isn't it?"

Before you can process the question, his hands are at the hem of your shirt. He pauses, giving you a second to stop him, but when you don't, he slowly peels the fabric upward. You lift your arms to help him, and the moment your shirt is gone, tossed somewhere over the edge of the bed, the air feels cooler against your heated skin.

Oscar stills. His eyes drop to your chest, and the amusement in his face is instantly replaced by something darker, heavier. A low hum vibrates in his throat.

He stares at the black lace bra you’re wearing, the one you had debated throwing on earlier, the one that makes your breasts look amazing and feels scandalously delicate against your skin.

"Well, well," he murmurs, his gaze dragging over the lace, tracing the curve of the cups. "Did you put this pretty thing on for me, hmm?"

The heat in your face intensifies. "I... maybe."

He grins, looking up at you through his lashes. "It’s working. You look incredible."

He reaches out, his hands warm and large as they cover your breasts, squeezing gently through the lace. The sensation is electric, the rough fabric of his palms against the delicate lace, the pressure, the possessiveness of the touch. Your back arches on instinct, pushing you further into his hands.

"Oscar," you gasp.

"God, look at you," he mutters, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck. "So pretty."

His fingers find the clasp of your bra with practiced ease. There’s a soft click, and then the tension releases. He slides the straps down your arms, tossing the bra aside to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

The cool air hits your skin, but Oscar is there a second later, warming you up. He kisses down the column of your throat, his lips wet and hot, trailing fire across your skin. When he reaches the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, he sucks hard, just enough to sting.

You gasp, your head falling back. "Oscar..."

"Hm?" He doesn't stop. He moves lower, kissing his way across your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts. He’s taking his time, worshiping the skin like he’s been starving for it.

"Are you marking me?" you breathe, half-laughing, half-moaning.

He pulls back slightly, admiring the dark purple bloom already forming on your skin. "Maybe," he says, a smug tilt to his lips. "I want everyone to know you were with me tonight."

Before you can respond to that, before you can even process how possessive and hot that is, he leans back down. This time, his target is lower. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he sucks hard.

The sensation shoots straight through you, white-hot and overwhelming. Your fingers fly to his hair, threading through the damp curls, holding him against you as a broken moan tears from your throat.

"Jesus," you whisper, your hips bucking involuntarily against his lap.

He groans against your skin, the sound vibrating through your chest, sending shockwaves straight down to your core. His free hand comes up to knead your other breast, his thumb rolling over your neglected nipple in a rhythm that matches the movements of his tongue.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. The heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the friction of his body against yours, you’re completely overwhelmed, senses narrowing down to just him. The smell of his soap, the taste of his skin, the weight of his hands.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down the hard planes of his back. The feeling is primal, a desperate need to ground yourself as he pushes you higher and higher.

He hisses at the sharp sensation, his head snapping up. His eyes are blown wide, dark with arousal, and there’s a flush high on his cheekbones.

"Careful," he murmurs, though his voice is wrecked, betraying how much he likes it. "You leave a mark, I’m leaving one too."

"Then don't stop," you challenge, your voice breathless and trembling.

He stares at you for a beat, something raw and hungry passing over his face, and then he surges up to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your moan as his hands roam your bare skin, claiming every inch of you.

The friction of his shorts against your bare thighs is suddenly too much, rough and constricting. Oscar seems to sense your restlessness because his hands drift from your waist down to the button of your skirt.

He pauses, his fingers resting on the metal, his eyes finding yours again. That steady, grounding look is back, cutting through the haze of lust.

"Let's get these off," he murmurs. "Is that okay?"

You nod frantically, your breath hitching. "Yes. Please, Oscar."

He undoes the button and zipper with agonizing slowness, sliding the fabric down your hips. You lift yourself up slightly to help him, and he peels your skirt and panties down your legs in one go, tossing them carelessly onto the floor.

The rush of cool air against your heated skin makes you shiver, but Oscar doesn't give you long to feel exposed. He pulls you back against him, skin to skin now from the waist up, his hands warm and possessive on your bare hips.

"You're beautiful," he says, his voice rougher than before. "So fucking beautiful."

Your face burns, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart clench. He's looking at you like you're a prize he's just won, like he can't quite believe you're real.

It’s your turn now. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the waistband of his gym shorts. You hook your fingers underneath, tugging them down.

Oscar lifts his hips to help you, and you pull the fabric down, along with his boxers, freeing him.

Your eyes drop, and your breath catches in your throat. You knew he was big, you could feel it when you were on his lap, but seeing it is different. He’s thick and heavy, flushing a dark shade that matches the flush on his cheeks. He springs free, slapping against his stomach, and the sheer size of him makes your mouth go dry.

"Oh," you breathe, staring.

Oscar lets out a shaky breath, his head falling back against the headboard. "E-everything okay?"

"Yeah. You're..." You trail off, at a loss for words. "You're really big."

He lets out a huff of laughter that sounds more like a groan. "Is that a good thing?"

"It's a very good thing," you manage, a rush of heat flooding your veins. A size kink you didn't know you possessed flares to life, demanding that you get your hands on him.

You wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. He hisses through his teeth, his hips bucking up into your grip involuntarily.

"Jesus," he grits out.

You stroke him experimentally, marveling at the weight of him in your palm, the velvet-soft skin over steel-hard heat. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," he rasps, his eyes fluttering shut. "Feels amazing."

You continue to stroke him, slow and deliberate, watching the way his abs contract with every movement. He’s breathing hard, his chest heaving, and the power you have over him in this moment is intoxicating.

Then his hand slides between your legs.

You gasp, your hips jerking forward as his fingers brush through your folds. He groans low in his throat when he finds how wet you are.

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice dark with wonder. "You're soaked. All this for me?"

"All for you," you breathe, your hand faltering on his cock as his fingers begin to explore. "Oscar, please..."

"I've got you," he murmurs. He collects your wetness, dragging it up to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with agonizing precision.

Your head falls back, a moan tearing from your throat. The dual sensation of his fingers on your clit and his cock in your hand is almost too much to process.

"Look at you," he murmurs, watching your face intently. "Falling apart already. I've wanted this for so long. Wanted to see you like this. Can't believe it's actually happening."

He slides one finger inside you, and you gasp, your walls clamping down around him immediately. He groans at the tightness, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"You feel incredible," he whispers against your skin. "So tight. So perfect."

He sets a rhythm, his finger pumping in and out of you, curling just right to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. Your hand on his cock speeds up instinctively, matching his pace, your thumb brushing over the leaking tip.

The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, heavy breathing, broken moans, the wet slap of his fingers inside you, the friction of your hand on his cock.

Oscar kisses you, swallowing your cries, his tongue tangling with yours in a messy, desperate dance. It’s wet and dirty and perfect, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devours you.

You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand, chasing the friction you need. He adds a second finger, stretching you open, and you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulder again.

"God, you're so responsive," he praises, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark and hungry. "Taking my fingers so well. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

You shake your head, panting, your vision blurring at the edges. "I don't—Oscar, I'm close."

"I know," he murmurs, his voice soothing even as his movements turn more aggressive. "Let go for me. I've got you."

He speeds up his thrusts, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit, and the pleasure coils tight in your belly, ready to snap. You stroke him faster, desperate to push him over the edge with you, your hand flying over his length.

The combination is overwhelming, the stretch of his fingers, the pressure on your clit, the heavy weight of him in your hand. You're spiraling, climbing higher and higher, and Oscar is right there with you, anchoring you, guiding you, taking you apart piece by piece.

The pressure inside you builds to a breaking point, your thighs trembling as his fingers work you relentlessly. You cry out, your back arching off his chest as the orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure leaving you boneless and gasping. Your hand tightens almost painfully around him as you ride it out, stroking him frantically through your own high.

Oscar groans deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into your fist, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. He’s right there with you, tensing up, but just as you feel him swell in your hand, his movements still.

He catches your wrist, gently but firmly, stopping you.

Your eyes flutter open, dazed and confused. "What—?"

"I can't," he breathes, his chest heaving against yours. He presses a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple. "Not like this. If I come now, I'm done for. And I..." He pulls back to look you in the eye, his gaze intense and serious. "I want to fuck you. Properly. But only if you want that."

The heat rushes back to your face, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You stare at him, taking in the flush on his cheeks, the desperate hunger in his eyes, the way he’s holding himself back just for you.

"Yeah," you whisper, your voice shy but sure. "I want that. I want you."

He lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second like he’s trying to rein himself in. "Thank god."

You climb off his lap, your legs feeling distinctly unsteady beneath you. You stumble slightly, catching yourself on the edge of the bed.

Oscar smirks, his eyes dragging shamelessly over your naked form as you stand there. "Easy there."

"Shut up," you mutter, glaring at him over your shoulder, though you can't find it in you to be annoyed when he’s looking at you like you’re a masterpiece. "I'm fine."

"You’re gorgeous," he corrects, leaning back on his elbows, completely unashamed of his own nakedness. "And you’re wobbly. I’m taking it as a compliment."

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile, and turn to your nightstand. You pull open the drawer, rummaging through the clutter until your fingers close around the familiar foil packet. You grab it and turn back around.

Oscar hasn’t moved. He’s still watching you, appreciating the view of your bare back and the curve of your hips as you walk back toward him. The heat in his gaze is tangible, scorching.

You climb back onto the bed, kneeling between his spread legs. You rip the foil open with your teeth, something that makes Oscar’s eyebrows raise in impressed amusement, and roll the condom down his length. Your fingers brush against him, and he hisses, his abs twitching at the contact.

"Sorry," you murmur.

"Don't apologize," he says, his voice low and rough. "Just... come here."

He reaches for you, guiding you to straddle his lap again, but this time he shifts, maneuvering you until your back hits the mattress. He settles over you, bracketing your head with his arms, his weight resting on his elbows so he doesn't crush you.

The change in position makes your breath hitch. He’s big like this, broad shoulders blocking out the light, his muscles caging you in. It feels safe. It feels inevitable.

"You sure?" he asks one last time, searching your face. "We don't have to rush."

"I'm sure," you whisper, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. "I want you, Oscar."

He lowers his hips, aligning himself with your entrance. He pushes forward slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. The burn is intense, a sharp, sweet sting that makes your breath catch in your throat.

He pauses when he’s halfway in, his jaw tight. "Okay?"

"Keep going," you breathe out, digging your heels into the mattress. "Please."

He groans and sinks deeper, burying himself to the hilt. You gasp, your eyes squeezing shut as he fills you completely. He’s big, stretching you wide, the sensation overwhelming and perfect all at once.

Oscar stills, giving you a moment to adjust, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth. "You feel so good," he murmurs against your skin. "So tight. Taking me so well."

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Move. Please."

He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, before pushing back in. The drag of him against your walls is delicious, slow and deliberate. He sets a rhythm that’s deep and thorough, his hips rolling against yours in a way that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

"God," he breathes, burying his face in your neck. "I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe you're actually here."

"Me neither," you admit, your voice trembling as he hits a spot that makes your toes curl.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes soft despite the intensity of the moment. "You're perfect," he says, his voice full of awe. "Everything about you. You're so beautiful."

He kisses you again, deep and sweet, swallowing your moans as he picks up the pace slightly. The pleasure builds again, slow and this time more intense, coiling low in your belly. He’s being so gentle, so careful with you, treating you like something precious, and it makes your heart ache just as much as your body.

"Oscar," you gasp, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"I love it when you moan my name," he whispers, his rhythm steady.

The rhythm shifts, the careful precision melting away as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch. Oscar starts to move faster, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder. The snap of his hips against yours is loud in the quiet room, echoing the thumping of your heart.

You moan, your head falling back against the pillow as he hits that spot inside you with devastating accuracy. That’s it. Something in him snaps.

A low, guttural sound tears from his throat, and suddenly the gentle, careful Oscar is gone. He grips your thighs, pushing them back toward your chest to open you up wider, changing the angle so he can drive into you even deeper.

"Ah, fuck," he growls, his eyes boring into yours, dark and wild. "I can’t get enough of you."

"Oscar," you cry out, your voice breaking as he grinds into you, the new angle devastating. "God, Oscar—"

"Yeah, that’s it," he pants, his rhythm turning rough, almost desperate. "You have no idea what it does to me. Hearing you say my name like that."

He leans down, capturing your mouth in a searing, messy kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue and shared breath, dominating and consuming. He swallows your moans, his hips pistoning into you, the bed creaking beneath you.

"You feel so good," he mutters against your lips, his voice wrecked. "Best thing I’ve ever felt. You’re perfect."

The pleasure is blinding, coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, anchoring yourself as he fucks you into the mattress. Every thrust pushes you higher, the friction burning hot and sweet.

He shifts again, sitting back on his haunches and hooking your legs over his arms. The leverage lets him fuck you harder, deeper, the intensity of it stealing the air from your lungs. The sight of him, muscles flexing, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes fixed on where your bodies join, is erotic enough to make you dizzy.

"Keep your eyes open," he commands breathlessly. "Look at me, baby.”

You force your eyes open, your gaze locking with his. The raw hunger in his eyes makes you shiver, your walls clenching around him involuntarily.

He groans, his head dropping back for a second. "Shit. You’re gonna make me lose it."

"Good," you manage, your voice trembling. "I want you to."

He lets out a dark laugh, leaning forward to brace himself on the headboard, caging you in completely. He resumes his rhythm, pounding into you now, losing himself in the heat of your body. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mixed with your shared panting and the broken cries of his name.

It’s frantic and raw and perfect, and you know you’re not going to last much longer. The coil in your belly is pulled tight, ready to unravel, and every drag of his cock against your walls pushes you closer to the edge.

The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter, pulled to the breaking point by every ruthless snap of his hips. You can’t hold it back anymore.

"Oscar, I'm—I'm gonna come," you cry out, your voice breaking on a sob of pleasure.

"Let go," he growls, his rhythm turning erratic, desperate. "Come for me."

He thrusts deep, grinding his hips against yours, and that’s all it takes. Your vision whites out, your back bowing off the mattress as the orgasm tears through you. You clamp down around him, your body pulsing and shaking, crying out his name as the pleasure floods your veins, leaving you gasping and boneless.

Oscar groans loud and long, his hips stuttering as your walls flutter around him. "Fuck—"

He buries himself to the hilt one last time, his whole body going taut as a bowstring. He chokes out a moan against your neck, his face pressed into your skin as he finds his own release, shuddering in your arms.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, both of you trying to come back down. His weight is heavy on top of you, grounding, solid, and warm. You can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest, matching the frantic pace of your own.

Eventually, he lifts his head. His hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his face is flushed, but his eyes are incredibly soft as he looks down at you.

"Hi," he murmurs, a crooked, tired smile playing on his lips.

You huff out a weak laugh, reaching up to brush a damp curl off his forehead. "Hi."

He leans down and kisses you, soft, slow, and sweet. A complete contrast to the desperate, rough fucking from moments before. It’s a kiss that says I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re safe.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, pulling back just enough to search your eyes.

"Yeah," you whisper, feeling a little dazed. "More than okay. That was..."

"Yeah," he agrees, pressing another kiss to your temple. "It really was."

He shifts carefully, pulling out of you. You wince slightly at the sensation, and he notices immediately, his hand stroking your hip soothingly.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Don't move."

He climbs off the bed, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he pads across the room to dispose of the condom in the trash. He doesn't bother putting his clothes back on; he just moves with that easy, athletic grace you’ve always admired, completely naked and unselfconscious.

He returns a moment later with a warm, damp washcloth from your attached bathroom. The bed dips under his weight as he sits beside you.

"Let me," he says softly, gently nudging your legs apart.

You flush, a sudden wave of shyness hitting you now that the heat of the moment has passed, but you let him clean you up. His touch is reverent, incredibly gentle as he wipes away the stickiness, taking care of you with a level of attention that makes your heart ache.

It’s such an intimate thing, maybe even more than the sex itself, the way he’s looking after you, making sure you’re comfortable.

"Thank you," you whisper when he’s done, watching as he tosses the cloth toward the hamper.

"Of course," he replies, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He lies down beside you, pulling the duvet up over both of you before gathering you into his arms. You shift automatically, tucking yourself against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you close, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your bare arm.

The silence stretches, comfortable and warm. You listen to the steady beat of his heart, feeling grounded, safe, and incredibly content.

"So," Oscar says after a while, his voice rumbling softly against your ear. "That definitely wasn't just for show."

You let out a soft laugh, burying your face in his neck. "No. It definitely wasn't."

He tightens his hold on you slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm glad," he admits. "I really wanted this. I've wanted this for a long time."

You look up, propping your chin on his chest to meet his gaze. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, looking at you with that same serious, steady intensity. "Not just the sex. But... this. Being with you."

Your heart does a slow, steady flip. "I think I wanted this too," you confess softly. "I just didn't let myself think about it."

"Well, you can think about it now," he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "As much as you want."

"Good," you say, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Because I don't think I'm done with you yet."

He grins against your mouth, his hand sliding down to squeeze your hip. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

xoxobear124

Charles Leclerc❤️Prince of Monaco❤️Il Predestinato ❤️

pppuri

merc family

boiohboii

It's a girl (2/3)

(Jack Abbot x fem!FBI!reader x Michael Robinavitch)

Part 1

Soulmate au

Note: this is set in season 2, but as of right now we are still waiting on episode 8 to air, so i have no idea how season 2 ends yet- i am just letting my imagination run wild after episode 7. With a criminal minds crossover (borrowing the BAU for this, hope you guys don't mind.) You don't have to know anything about criminal minds to read this. Thank you.

Warnings: no medical accuracy whatsoever. no idea how the fbi works. poly soulmate au. reader doesn't have a name but it's hinted that her name is a boy's name / not common for girls - no name is mentioned. 5-7 years age gap. Warnings: no medical accuracy whatsoever. no idea how the fbi works. poly soulmate au. reader doesn't have a name but it's hinted that her name is a boy's name / not common for girls - no name is mentioned. 5-7 years age gap. Injuries. Hostage situation. Gunshots. Angst.

wc◇5.1k

boiohboii

It's a girl (1/3)

(Jack Abbot x fem!FBI!reader x Michael Robinavitch)

Soulmate au

Note: this is set in season 2, but as of right now we are still waiting on episode 8 to air, so i have no idea how season 2 ends yet or how anything is gonna go after episode 7- i am just letting my imagination run wild here. With a criminal minds crossover (borrowing the BAU for this, hope you guys don't mind.) You don't have to know anything about criminal minds to read this. Thank you.

wc◇3.3k

darling-flora

nobody’s son

oscar piastri x yn!singer x ex!jacob elordi - social media au | request — here

fc: sabrina carpenter

summary — oscar's crush on a certain singer is reveled when his mom makes it her mission to embarrass her son..

─── oscar masterlist !

note — (manips made by me) i've been so nba focused recently so sorry this took a while to put out !! another fic with sabrina as the face claim don't hate me... (prob some misspellings but we ignore) thank you for this request !!! likes, reblog's and comments are always appreciated ❤

snailchap

brocedes animation trend from tiktok!!

mvclrc

SPORTS CAR lando norris x singer!reader smau

SYN: you and lando have been soft launching eachother for what feels like ages. when you finally drop your next album, containing your biggest hint about your relationship yet, people finally start to catch on. CONTENT: fem!reader, singer au, smau, soft launching, tate mcrae used! slightly mature but not really, very short fic, also includes a little mv teaser i made RADIO CHECK: based on this req! I LOVED EDITING THE MV OMG even though tumblr fucked up the quality and made it offbeat ugh. editing is my second love after writing i swear. hope you guys enjoy <3

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, tatemcrae and others ynln calm before the storm view comments

honeyandarcana

✶࿐THE ART OF MIND AND BODY -OP

about the reading: art belongs in the museum, or so thought oscar. but when he realizes what kind of baddie he bagged really, he can’t keep his hands off of you. and might never ever will.

cards contained in this reading: oscar piastri x fem!reader, 2,7k words, reader is a tattooed and pierced baddie, oscar goes crazy for it, unprotected p in v

a/n: based on this request💋

if oscar were to describe you with words, he would probably fail them. all of them. he wouldn’t necessarily say about himself he was shy. he was reserved, yes. confident and really only talked if it was necessary. but the moment he had laid his eyes on you, all coherent thoughts vanished from his usually cool and calculated brain.

sesshomarusningen

The Dreaded Double P

Summary: Oscar’s neighbour is a terrible driver.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem! reader.

Oscar’s neighbour is a terrible driver. The baby pink Porsche has never been parked in a straight line since Oscar moved in; it’s always crooked. To be fair, the parking garage of the building is pretty packed; everyone in Monaco owns a car or two so it’s always a tight fit. Oscar can see why said neighbour – let’s call them Pink Porsche – kind of gives up halfway and abandons the car in whatever position they deem fit.

Today, though, Oscar has the misfortune of witnessing this parking attempt firsthand, and to make it doubly unfortunate, he’s kind of in a rush. Pink Porsche is attempting to parallel park and, in doing so, is blocking the exit. They've been doing the same backwards and forwards movement to fit into the space and frankly, it’s not working. Oscar likes to think he’s a patient guy but he’s starting to get dizzy from all the movement and the anxiety of being late for his meeting is starting to eat at him.

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